


Benefaction

by Stella_STARgazer



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: Christmas fic, F/F, Gift Giving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-20 15:17:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13149375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stella_STARgazer/pseuds/Stella_STARgazer
Summary: Consider it a rare infection of Christmas spirit, though deep down a hidden emotion propelled this benefaction.





	Benefaction

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas to those still celebrating and a Happy Boxing Day to those on the other side of the globe. I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday season! :)

Atop the pristine surface of her desk, a modest feast for two awaits.

Joan paces her office quarters, nerves propelling her normally confident stride, though she’d deny it if questioned. She doesn’t do these types of things, these displays of kindness; by nature, an admission of  _ caring.  _ But the compulsion seized her so strongly, she decided to give in. Consider it a rare infection of Christmas spirit, though deep down a hidden emotion propelled this benefaction.

The gentle knock on her door stops her in her tracks. Onyx eyes dart to the entrance and back to the offering on her desk. Suddenly, she feels like a fool and momentarily considers disappearing into the bathroom of her office, knowing her intended guest won’t enter without consent. Too proud for a moment of cowardice though, she inhales deeply and tugs at the hem of her jacket to straighten her appearance. Standing tall in the center of her office, hands clasped at her pelvis, she speaks her approval for entry.

Deputy Bennett steps into the room, closing the door behind her before turning back to Joan. Briefly, her gaze lingers on the desk and a glint of surprise flashes in her wide doe eyes. In Joan’s posture she reads a hint of vulnerability. Yet, always eager to please, she keeps her professional tone and speaks nothing of the curious display.

“Governor. You wanted to see me?”

For a moment Joan says nothing. Vera remains at the door, surprised and a little uneasy by the hesitant look on Joan’s face. Suddenly the statuesque woman moves, releasing her hands to lay them awkwardly atop her upper thighs, fingers gently squeezing the slightly quivering muscles.  _ Pull yourself together. _

“I, yes. Would you care to join me?” Her voice oozes confidence, despite the wild unease in her belly. Coffee eyes fall to the desk before returning to Vera’s curious expression.

“I, umm, what?” Vera queries in a state of shock, the suggestion catching her completely off guard.

For a split second, Joan falters; bottom lip drops akin to the yawn of a goldfish.

“Are you not hungry? Surely you eat prawns on Christmas.” She counters with forged confidence.

“Well, yes…” Vera trails off, realizing she has no rebuttal...and that really, she doesn’t want to give one.

“Then sit. Eat. You’re working a double, so you should have a proper meal.” Joan extends a hand to the chair, placing it on the seatback and gesturing to it with a tilt of her head.

A bashful smile spreads across Vera’s face at the unexpectedly kind gesture. With a slight bow of her head, she approaches the chair and takes a seat. Joan rounds the desk to her throne, rolling forward as she collects her napkin, offering Vera a small, but surprisingly open smile.

“Thank you for this, governor.” She finally manages to respond. She’d never expected something so...friendly…from Joan, and her heart beats wildly with excitement.

“There’s no need. You deserve a proper Christmas meal for your hard work.I do apologize for the horrendous lunch trays, though I can assure you I cleaned them thoroughly myself.” Joan states with a hint of irritation and a dismissive flutter of her hand.  _ It should be nicer than this.  _ She reaches for a sip of sparkling water from her plastic cup.

“The plate doesn’t matter. It’s the meal...the thought, that counts.” Vera replies shyly, a slight blush coloring her pretty face. Joan stares, lips slightly parted, but doesn’t speak. She looks faintly nervous, Vera thinks as she watches her until coal eyes fall almost sheepishly to her plate.

The meal is a generously portioned salad topped with a colorful array of grilled vegetables and massive prawns. Vera takes her napkin from the desk, sweeping it into her lap before collecting her fork. Coffee eyes observe her in silence as she takes her first bite; the slightest flair of a nostril gives away the governor’s pleasure.

“Good?” It comes out as barely more than a breathy whisper. Espresso eyes take on a sultry edge.

“It’s amazing! Did you make it?” A reserved but pleased smile curls the governor’s elegant mouth and she shifts forward to finally enjoy her meal.

“Yes. I prefer to make most of my meals.” She takes a bite of her salad and continues to watch Vera eat.

A long silence settles between them as they dine. Vera wants to speak, but she’s not really sure what to say and there’s a distinct feeling of timidity in the air. She senses the rarity of this moment, of Joan showing this simple act of caring, and she doesn’t want to ruin it by doing or saying the wrong thing.

Meal consumed, Vera folds her napkin atop her plate and offers a grateful smile. “Thank you again for this, governor. It was delicious.”

“Good. And please Vera, call me Joan.” She permits a smile this time that creases her porcelain cheeks. Vera smiles bashfully in return, biting her bottom lip to prevent the girlish beam that wants to break across her face.

Rising from her seat, Joan collects the plates and moves around the desk toward the attached bathroom. 

“Let me clean up. It’s the least I can do since you made the meal.” Vera offers with a kind smile as she begins to rise from her chair.

A pale, elegant hand comes to rest on her narrow shoulder, and instantly she freezes. Joan has never touched her, aside from the one time she playfully slapped her knee during their first debriefing... _ but we’d been drinking then _ .

“That won’t be necessary.” Joan replies with a gentle smile as she lingers above, her hand stays in place a moment more, until Vera meets her gaze. A nervous flash moves across coal eyes and she suddenly breaks the contact.

Vera blushes and returns her gaze to the desk as Joan leaves the room. Suddenly, she remembers the rectangular box in her hip pocket and removes it, biting her bottom lip as she clutches it in her hands. With nervous delight, she places it on Joan’s desk, directly in front of her chair and sits back to wait. Her stomach flutters wildly as she hears Joan return to the room and come to a stop beside her.

Dark eyes fall to the modest rectangular box wrapped in deep red wrapping and tied with a simple green bow. She looks at it for a moment, then to Vera, a perfect brow raised in question.

“What’s this?” She asks with a hint of amusement and a slight quirk to her lips.

“It’s just....a token of my appreciation.” There’s a nervous tremor to her voice that she can’t get under control, so she stops there, afraid to look like a fool.

“That isn’t necessary, Vera.”

“I know that, but...I wanted to.” She smiles shyly as she feels the heat radiating in her cheeks. Joan eyes her for a moment with a curious expression before moving around her desk to take a seat.

“Shall I open it now?” She looks to Vera with a questioning gaze.

“Yes...unless you’d rather not. I don’t want you to feel obligated to open it in front of me.” The nerves are apparent in her voice as she breaks the eye contact between them.

Joan picks up the box with a small smile and unwraps it slowly. She opens the small cardboard box inside and tilts it until a dark wooden pencil box begins to slip out. Pulling it gently, she eases it from the wrapping and sets it on the desk. The wood is polished perfectly with a dark stain, giving it a deep red brown finish. On the top of the box is an elegantly carved crown with a simple, but exquisitely carved border. She runs a gentle finger along the edges of the handiwork, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips. 

“It’s quite beautiful. It’s jarrah, correct?” Joan looks up to wait for a response and there’s a softness in her eyes that Vera’s never seen before.

“Yes. I purchased it from an Aboriginal woodworker at Victoria market. He had some beautiful pieces, but this one was especially elegant…and reminded me of you.” She replies with a diffident smile.

Joan’s gaze softens even more and she simply stares at Vera for a moment before looking back down at the box and running an admiring finger across the contours of the crown. She hasn’t been given a gift in years and the sentiment has a surprisingly profound effect on her. She slides open the lid and finds a small slip of folded paper inside. Vera feels her heartbeat nearly thunder out of her chest as she watches Joan pick it up and unfold it. Joan glances at her quickly before returning her focus to the small slip of paper, reading the handwritten message scrawled in neat, pretty writing.

 

_ Thank you for believing in me and for offering your mentorship.  _

_ Words cannot express my immense gratitude.  _

_ Wishing you a Merry Christmas.  _

_ Always,  _

_ Vera _

 

She stares at the gently looping words, her eyes continually drawn to the last two: “Always, Vera”. After a long moment, she folds the paper and slips it into the pocket inside her jacket then places the box on the edge of her desk, aligning it perfectly and adding the row of yellow pencils inside before carefully closing it. She looks up again to meet Vera’s timid gaze and offers her a beautifully tender smile, the fullest she’s ever permitted within the walls of Wentworth.

“Thank you, Vera. It’s a beautiful piece of craftsmanship and a very thoughtful gift.”

The smile that lights Vera’s face is simply radiant and Joan has a hard time ignoring the warm buzz that instantly fills her body.

“I’m glad you like it...and thank you for taking an interest in me. You don’t know how much it means to me to have your guidance and support.” Her smile fades to a small crescent as insecurity colors her soft voice.

Joan rises from her chair and Vera follows suit, stepping around hers as she reads Joan’s movement as her cue to go. To her surprise, Joan approaches and places a gentle hand on Vera’s bicep, looking down to meet her gaze with a kind expression.

“You’re an excellent deputy, Vera and I’m very grateful to have you.” She offers a genuine, though slightly awkward smile.

Tears begin to fill Vera’s blue green eyes and she blinks back the flow to prevent them from escaping. It’s the validation she’s always longed to hear.

After a moment, Joan allows her hand to fall, gently grazing the length of Vera’s arm as it comes to rest at her side. In a bold move, Vera inches her hand forward, gently wrapping her fingers around Joan’s larger hand and offering a gentle squeeze. To her surprise, Joan turns her hand and takes Vera’s into her own.

“Merry Christmas, Joan.” Vera whispers as she looks up to meet Joan’s gaze.

Joan squeezes her hand gently with a smile.

“Merry Christmas to you too, Vera.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
